


Too Little; Much Too Late

by Scallion



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, akira and akechi are kids in first chapter, ship if you squint, spoilers in second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scallion/pseuds/Scallion
Summary: Akira thinks he should say hello, that boy, he looks awfully lonely.The two of them, opposites and alike; oh if only they remembered they met long ago.





	1. Chapter 1

There's a kid with scabs on his hands, and he's picking at it. Brown hair falling over his eyes, mouth pressed in perfect neutrality. It's strange to see, a quiet kid at a festival, when everyone else is lost in the merry din of happiness.

Happiness does not even touch the air around him. 

He picks at a different scab, at his knuckles this time, shuffling awkwardly as people push past him.

Akira thinks he should say hello, that boy, he looks awfully lonely. He was told to stay put by his mother, but this feels more important at the moment. Ducking between limbs, he saunters over to him. He doesn't really know what he's supposed to say, but the marks on his hand looked itchy and painful. There's band-aids in his bag, the fun ones with pictures of Saturday night cartoons and bright colors. 

Akira's mother had taken to calling him 'accident-prone' and a 'trouble child,' after coming home from the school yard with cuts and bruises, not that Akira knew what any of those phrases meant. He only knew that after awhile, his mom tucked band-aids and cold packs into his bag. So, he may have needed them, but he's pretty sure the other boy needs them more.

"Here, I have plenty."

Red-brown eyes blink in confusion, head whipping left and right. for surely this offer was not made to him. 

"It's for you."

He points at himself, questioning.

"Yeah, you,"

Wearily the boy reaches out, nearly toppling when the stranger grabs his hands into his own. 

"Let me help you," Akira says, already wrapping a bright white and red band-aid around his finger, and placing a striped one on his knuckles. He notices the boy hasn't said a word, but he isn't pulling away either - a win it is then. He takes another one, black and red, and another with a big letter 'A' to cover a couple more scabs. The box is empty when he looks down, but Akira finds that he doesn't mind very much.

It's quiet, if he wasn't listening he wouldn't have even heard it.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," and Akira smiles, ever so softly, pleased that he had gotten some words out of the other. "Do you want to come see the show with me? It's going on right now." 

"I'm not supposed to move from here."

"No one will know if we go now," Akira whispers with a mischievous smile and charisma far too strong for one so young, "I'll bring you back before anyone ever notices."

He's conflicted, Akira can see this, but his demeanor melts instantly as the drums begin to beat. It was a common show, but everyone knew when the drums came out, the magnificent hero would fight the dastardly villain. Nodding, Akira grabs his hand and takes off towards the music.

Akechi watches, eyes dazzled. _I want to be like that_ ; as the white-clad hero strikes down the thief, the crowd clapping. Time moves too quickly and the boy who brought him here, is tugging him back already. 

Akira is about to say something, when a woman grabs his shoulders; anger brimming in her eyes. Akechi shrinks back instinctively as she drags the black-haired boy away. _Was that the boy's_   _mother_?

He never even got his name.

Standing in the very same spot, it must have been a dream, Akechi thinks, but when he looks down there's colors blossoming on every finger. Not splotchy reds against pale skin, but red and whites and a nice bold 'A' just like his name.

His foster father pushes him to get his attention.

"Where did you get those stupid things on your fingers? You better not have stolen it."

Akechi opens his mouth to speak, "I got them from my friend-"

"Don't lie, you don't have any friends. I don't care what you have to say, just take them off you look like a little child."

Wordlessly, he obeys his 'father' who was already returning to his wife and true children. 

The striped band-aid catches on a scab and tears it.

His hands bleed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life for theirs. Who would ever think Akechi, the cursed child would have such an opportunity.

I hate you so much. hate. hate. hate. hate. A litany of anger through his mind. Another, quieter, stifled, suffocating - _If only I didn't love you so much_. He loved the days in Leblanc where he felt human, loved the attention of the phantom thieves, and most of all loved Akira for all that he was an all that he stood for.

Oh, but love does not triumph, nor does friendship and kindness. Any who believed so were stuck in childish fantasies. He who fooled the world won; and this was a winner takes all world. He was a winner right? Perfect detective prince, revered by the masses?

What a joke.

After all, jealousy always kills love. 

Akechi was almost certain he was the most jealous person alive. Imperfect Akira the no fame delinquent, with his mussed up hair, and shabby attic, had everything he wanted. Love, admiration, and FREEDOM. His entire life, he had obeyed and now everything was in shambles because of one stupid, flawed boy who did what he wanted, when he wanted.

Now he was on his knees, hurting like all those times he was beaten. Hands clenched, eyes squeeze shut, screaming to a world that did not care. Goro Akechi did not cry, crying was for children, and yet his cheeks were wet beneath the cold metallic mask. 

Then they forgave him.

He did not want their forgiveness. He preferred they hurt him, take the air from his lungs, drown him in pain, _kill him_ \- because at least he would understand that. Forgiveness was too much. 

Then he was staring at himself from the end of a barrel. To die by his own hands, he was cursed indeed, but it was all rather fitting wasn't it? Who better to remove a stain from the world than the one who put it there. He was a disgusting little thing in the grand scheme of the world. He would never be more, and the only way he could pay reparations was to fade away quietly and trouble the true heroes no longer.  

He thinks about Akira, it's a pretty small price to pay, his life for theirs. It's a bargain deal really, and he can't help but to laugh at that, blood spluttering. In what world did his worth measure up to another persons, let alone Akira and his merry band of thieves? 

It's so cold and he can't stop his body from shaking, can't stop himself from spilling more tears. He looks down at the hole in his chest. The striped suit, some sick manisfestation of his own inner self. 

It reminds him of a certain band-aid.

Pressing his hands to his wound, the flow won't stop, he feels weak as his limbs fall beside him.

There is blood on his hands.

Then there is darkness, a wish for happiness, and a plea for redemption.

Then there is nothing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism always welcomed.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh no I love akechi too on top of every single phantom thief. Just a little something for these two who I adore ; v; There will be spoilers in the second chapter, just as a warning to those avoiding them!  
> I'm a little worried that the thoughts/actions between the two of them got a little confusing, so as always constructive criticism is welcomed as I am still learning a lot :D


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